


Liberated.

by NerdyMassi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Tenderness, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, like; the day after the fall, will reflects on his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyMassi/pseuds/NerdyMassi
Summary: Will reflects on his life, while he recovers in bed with Hannibal from their fight with Dolarhyde. Set the day right after the fall.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	Liberated.

Will couldn’t remember how they got back to the house but, clearly, as they were both lying in bed, their wounds covered in bandages, they’d somehow managed it. How they’d done it did not matter much.  
_We survived the fall,_ Will realized, looking at Hannibal’s regular breathing as he slept. He slowly brought his arm closer to Hannibal’s chest and let his hand linger over his heart, allowed himself to feel its calm, steady beating. He relished the first truly peaceful moment they had together.  
Will’s own heart tightened at the thought of the time it took for him to figure out where he belonged. With whom he belonged.  
_We could’ve had this years ago_ , he thought, as he rested his head on Hannibal’s chest. _We could’ve had this years ago, if only I hadn’t been so indecisive… We could’ve been at peace, Hannibal and I together, plus the dogs, and… Abigail._  
Abigail.  
Her death still twisted his guts like the knife Hannibal had used on them that night, even over three years later, even despite having forgiven Hannibal for what he’d done. Will would still see her ghost, sometimes, when he would help Walter with homework, or when he taught him how to fish. Will couldn’t count the number of times where, sitting at the dinner table with Molly and her son, their image would be replaced by that of Abigail Hobbs and Hannibal Lecter. They probably were as numerous as the times when, in the most intimate of moments with his wife, Will would see her features turn into Hannibal’s.  
He hated himself for that, back then. He’d found someone good, kind, and funny, that shared his love of dogs and let her son call him Dad. So why did he feel so empty at times? Why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he had? A spouse, a child, dogs…; a _family._  
Obviously, Will knew the answer now. He had always known it, in a way. Molly and Walter were wonderful, and he did love them, but… They weren’t the family that he _needed_. 

He had tried hard, really hard, to leave this darkness in him behind. He truly wanted to spend his life with his wife and kid, but… he couldn’t help but yearn for something else, something darker – although he wouldn’t let it show to Molly. _Even now, she probably still thinks I’m coming back._  
When Jack Crawford came for him, despite Will’s apparent protestations, the monstrous creature inside of his heart, that he’d tried so desperately to keep tamed, rejoiced at the thought of going back to the field. Of getting to slide into murderers’ minds again, of getting to see Hannibal again. His letter to Will even encouraged him, in a way. Will knew Hannibal had carefully written the exact opposite of what he meant, in case someone had been reading his mail before sending it.  
And so, the creature started gnawing at the cage Will had built around it, slowly but surely tearing apart every bar and concrete wall.  
Will could feel himself slip further and further away from his new life. Away from Molly’s warm light, and closer and closer to Hannibal’s alluring darkness again. He was yet to admit, then, that his heart was simply shifting from a person to another. He felt it. _Desired_ it, even. But he was ashamed of it. Not of falling for a man or an old flame, that had happened to him before. But betraying the person that he swore to spend the rest of his life with, for someone he had tried so hard to despise and leave behind, moreover a convicted murderer, _that_ he’d been ashamed of. The idea came to Will that maybe, the news of his wedding with Molly had felt like a betrayal for Hannibal too, at the time.

But Will wasn’t ashamed anymore.  
After all, he was just as much of a killer as Hannibal was. Garett Jacob Hobbs, Randall Tier, the man he pushed Chiyoh to kill in Lithuania, and if any doubt remained, Will’s wounds and bruises would remind him for a long time of what he and Hannibal did to Francis Dolarhyde last night.  
Will could fully own this part of himself now, without any shame or guilt, if a bit of wistful at the time it took him to come to terms with it, and what his hesitation had costed him. And what it would cost others. 

Hannibal raised his hand and gently gripped Will’s, taking him out of his reverie. Will sighed and tightened his hold on Hannibal, just to make sure he was really there, next to him.  
“– Glad to see you’re alive, Will.  
He smiled against Hannibal’s chest, before arching his head to meet his eyes.  
– I could say the same to you. Are you all right?  
\- I am. What about you?  
Hannibal lightly brushed the gauze bandage on Will’s cheek, making him flinch a little.  
\- I’m fine. Hannibal, you took a bullet.  
– And you were stabbed in the face.  
– Oh, that’s nothing, Will smirked. Did I ever tell you about the time I got stabbed in the guts?”  
The corners of Hannibal’s lips slightly twitched up at the joke.  
Will traced them with his thumb, before freeing his other hand from Hannibal’s to cup his face, only breaking eye contact to close his eyes as he brought their faces together in a languid, tender kiss…  
Their position wasn’t the most comfortable, covered as they were in painful bruises and bandaged wounds, but the warmth of Hannibal’s mouth against his own, Hannibal who returned his kiss with just as much care and adoration, made Will feel like he was being embraced by Apollo, the Greek god of light and masculine beauty. Will wondered, _“how long have we been craving this moment?”._  
The two of them were – _finally_ – reunited with each other, and now, nothing would break them apart – except, maybe, the need for air after that kiss – they would both make sure of that.

The past few weeks had been among the hardest and most stressful of Will’s life, almost resulting in his and Hannibal’s death. The days to come would be hard, they would have to run away from a lot of things, and a lot of people. Surely, this wasn’t the end of their troubles.  
And yet, Will Graham had never felt so alive in his life as he did now, lying in bed next to the man he loved. It wasn’t just beautiful. 

It was _liberating._


End file.
